


Yuki's Troublesome Subroutine

by Integrated Thought Record (AHM)



Category: Suzumiya Haruhi Series
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, F/M, Gen, Philosophy, Psychology of Emotion, Xenobiology, Xenopsychology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHM/pseuds/Integrated%20Thought%20Record
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyon gets called over to Nagato's apartment without reason. It turns out that his unique knowledge might be the only thing that can save them both from a dangerous situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yuki's Troublesome Subroutine

**Yuki's Troublesome Subroutine**

 _I wrote this a long time ago but held back on publishing it after I read the post-Disappearance novels... this **diverges**  (all the books after 4  **contradict it** ) and I actually prefer how the novel canon developed Yuki's personality. But I'd rather share it than leave it on my hard drive forever. So, if you like Nagato and live in the world of the anime only, I guess this is for you._

1.

As far as life goes in the SOS Brigade, it was a fairly normal day—even boring. Haruhi was instructing Asahina in maid behavior, or should I say, forcing a maid costume onto her once again. Koizumi was, in his usual, nonchalant way, cheerleading the effort. I was averting my eyes. As I searched idly for Asahina's reflection in the window, though, Nagato motioned to me, and, barely opening her mouth, whispered: "Please come by my apartment this evening."

This by itself was fairly unusual. She was telling me right here in the clubroom? No message delivered inside a book, or through a computer, or via other signs and signals away from the rest? Perhaps something had popped onto her radar right here in the clubroom. Or… well, there was no reason to speculate.

I was on my guard for a Haruhi emergency when the club let out, but was able to get home and have dinner without incident. At around 8PM, I let myself wander over to the expensive-looking apartments by the train station. This time, a simple "it's me" was enough for her to open the doors.

The apartment was spotless, as usual. Gleaming furniture sat in arrangement on the floor, and Nagato herself, looking for all the world like another appliance, sat stiffly at the kotatsu. She had already poured herself a cup of tea.

"Sorry to impose," I mumbled, taking off my shoes.

"The same here," she replied. "Today, I'm afraid I will have to impose on you."

Not only her response, but her expression was visibly distraught. Actually, considering her usual character, this was completely out of the ordinary. Obviously, Haruhi would not be the subject of our conversation tonight. No, something that had long been lurking beneath her calm demeanor was bubbling to the top. In the absurdly unpredictable life I've been dragged into, Nagato has been the most trustworthy—but nevertheless, I felt a little uneasy sitting down across the table. And sure enough, as soon as I sat down, without even being offered any tea, I was thrown head-first into a tidal wave, nay, a tsunami of techno-jargon that seemed to have slightly more urgency to it than Nagato's overwhelming explanations to me in the past.

"Several months ago, my malfunction was responsible for a time-space disruption that temporarily erased not only myself but also the extranormal abilities of Suzumiya Haruhi and the innumerable data forms that constitute the Integrated Data Thought Entity. This disruption was, needless to say, contrary to my programming and mission. It was only by your firm request that my immediate dissolution as a Living Humanoid Interface was not effected.

"I require further input on this choice. I warned you at that time that further malfunctions were inevitable. This was true and remains true. However, after your proximity to and influence on Suzumiya Haruhi was integrated into the model, your request took precedence for a majority of the Integrated Data Thought Entity over the danger of future disruptions. I have personally struggled to determine the basis of your decision. I have come to believe it is linked to the importance assigned to emotion and personality in organic life forms."

Yes, that's probably true. Without waiting for confirmation, though, Nagato proceeded:

"Emotion is widely held to be a dangerous and irrational influence on data procedures. You no doubt remember the case of Asakura Ryouko."

No, I don't think I'll forget her as long as I live.

"The Integrated Data Thought Entity created her with a limited but functioning capacity for emotion in order to ease her integration into Suzumiya Haruhi's classroom. Further, she stated herself that she attacked you on her own initiative. The consensus opinion is therefore that the presence of emotion is the primary factor behind such violent behavior."

I've been told time and time again that I could never understand this Thought Entity thing, but I can't help but feel that its own understanding of humanity is just as poor…

"However, as her dissolution was urgently necessary we were unable to analyze her data. This conclusion was reached based on informed speculation, but it was speculation only. I have privately developed the opinion that her personality was damaged from the beginning and did not malfunction. I must warn you, though, that this opinion is itself abnormal and it is possible that it may represent a malfunction in myself. In fact, I have already erected a barrier this evening to ensure that the opinion does not escape this room." Nagato paused. The reason was obvious to me: she was already operating outside her rigid normal procedure and couldn't explain to herself why she was doing it.

"Based on this conclusion, I have secretly written a personality subroutine for myself. But by my own analysis I am unable to activate it."

"Why not?"

"The probability of danger is 99.8 per cent."

I sucked in my breath. "Then…" I feel like I could cut through the tension with a knife. "Then why did you bring me here?"

"To ask you if I should activate it."

2.

Absolutely not. No way in hell. A 99.8 per cent chance of… what? A reenactment of our intergalactic drama?

"By 'danger', I am referring to events which I myself cannot predict. The range is from trivial to catastrophic. The probability of the latter is comparatively low."

That's not helpful. But… what's the upside? How could someone's private opinions justify taking a risk like that?

"Hold on," I said, coming to my senses for the first time. "Hold on. Why did you want to write a personality subroutine in the first place?"

"I derived this from your own words. Perhaps when I myself am in such proximity to Suzumiya Haruhi, it is inevitable that emotions will arise, and I must create some capacity for expression in order to contain them."

Up until recently, everything I've learned suggested that Nagato had complete knowledge of her past and future situation. But I know now that that's not the whole story. If it's true that she's bound to lose control of herself in the future, wouldn't a personality balance that out somehow? In that case, this "danger" she's referring to might actually be a good thing—rendered dangerous only by her inability to foresee, as a data interface whatever, how she herself is going to act.

"Couldn't you put some kind of sanity check on this?" I asked. "I mean, I don't know much about computers, but you could try to control…"

"I have done my best to attempt such protections, but you must be familiar yourself with the unpredictability of organic emotion. None of the data I have collected suggests that human beings can be rendered entirely predictable creatures."

No, human cussedness is pretty much a universal law. With the amount of reading she does I'm sure Nagato is much more familiar with the problem than I am. Actually, it goes without saying—I'm almost completely clueless. I'm not a philosopher or a psychologist. I'm not familiar with the behavior of superdimensional data beings, like Koizumi or Asahina are. I've never even professed an interest in the subjects they so frequently expound upon.

"Hey, why do I have to be the one to decide this?"

"I have no first-hand experience of organic emotion. In my own thoughts I can express it only as irrationality and danger. I have decided that I must entrust you with this decision. Also… I may be already malfunctioning." Nagato was starting to look unnerved about having to say this twice. I noticed for the first time that drops of tea had spilled out of her cup onto the kotatsu. She was shaking.

"What about the experts? Koizumi?" Wait… he doesn't know about any of this, does he? "Asahina-san, at least…"

"It's true that the others have more technical knowledge about data beings, but I do not believe them to be as familiar with my own behavior as you."

With that, it hit me. Nagato, or whatever aberrant scraps of personality were hiding deep inside her programming, wasn't looking to me for any technical advice. Ha! Far from it! She had chosen me to come because of those three days I had spent in her own fearfully elaborate utopia. This was about the other Nagato, who had never been a random fluke of space-time but a purposefully constructed alter ego, and who was now darting in and out of the corners of our conversation like a sparrow in the room. She built the alter ego, but she had never asked or learned my reaction to her. And now she wanted not to resurrect her, or repeat the experiment—that would be absurd—but to receive my judgment, and act accordingly.

And now, I realized, the trap had been sprung. I couldn't deny it to myself. I had liked the other Nagato far better; she had been the calm in the storm, the most relieving part of that extended nightmare. Now, to be fair, that perfectly normal, shy literary club president with no extraterrestrial powers was a completely different person. But couldn't the  _normal_  part at least be simulated?

I was consumed by curiosity. I wasn't thinking about this rationally at all. No, this was why she had brought me here—to make an irrational decision for her. She had chosen the best, or worst, person for the job. Dammit! But could I just walk away?

"What if I said no?"

In a noisy room, I wouldn't have heard it, but in the complete silence of the seventh floor mansion, there was no way to dispute that Nagato had gasped.

Me sitting here, this entire arrangement, was already against procedure. If I said no… there was no knowing what the energy inside her might drive her to do. This was, in fact, an attempt to prevent that.

"Okay. Go ahead and try it."

"Initiating." I stared at her for a second. No hand gestures or anything? Then, completely out of character, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

"Is that it?"

"That's all." Her mouth curved unnaturally upward. An expression I had only seen once before in my lifetime. "I hope you made the right choice."

"Hope? You don't know?"

"I did warn you, right? I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen next."

"…well, uh, how do you feel?" I felt slightly dopey, as if I were reciting from an elementary school ethics textbook.

"I feel…" The smile vanished. "Huh? I feel… how do I describe this?"

"Eh?"

"I think the word is… lonely..."

Hm. It is a pretty lonely life, I guess.

But now Nagato looked sort of confused. She seemed to be staring into space, with a distinct expression of not knowing what was going on around her. She waved her hand in front of her own face. That was a cue for fear to start its awful march up my throat.

She stammered. "This isn't…"

My heart started pounding. Finish your sentences, dammit!

"I didn't expect this… oh God!"

Suddenly she tried to stand up, bumping the kotatsu, and just as quickly fell backwards, staring in mortal terror at the wall as if some monster were bearing down on her, before finally passing out. Oh,  _shit._

"Nagato!" I shouted, jumping up. Why hadn't I told anyone where I was going? Mikuru, Koizumi—I could use you guys right now! I gripped her shoulders, trying to rouse her to consciousness, but quickly became aware that I was getting fuzzy as well. What? Why am I affected as well? Nagato, get ahold of yourself! I'm…

3.

...staring at the floor?

I must have blacked out. I lifted my head off the ground and looked around me. I was still in Nagato's apartment, but things seemed a little off. How should I put this... it all seemed very  _blue_. Yes— the power was cut, and the room was lit by some deep blueness arising out of somewhere. Also, Nagato herself was nowhere to be seen.

My ears were ringing. It was unnaturally quiet. With the hum of the kotatsu gone, I'd expect to be able to hear cars outside. I turned around, and from out the window came a real sign of trouble: pitch black darkness. I'd understand if the power had been cut throughout the city, but who turned out the moon?

"Nagato!" I yelled. No reply. I didn't know if I was expecting one. Perhaps I was now cut off from the universe. Maybe everything had been eliminated except for me and this room. Maybe I was trapped here forever. Horrific sci-fi scenarios ran unbidden through my head. No... there's no way Nagato could have allowed that. Unless if she was driven insane? Why didn't I try to calm her down? Why did I let her go through with this in the first place? This is all my fault!

"Help," came a voice.

"Nagato!" I slammed open the door to the tatami room where I had slept for three years—empty, of course. Dashing into the dark hallway, I tried the same with the kitchen and bedroom—empty. That left the roof and the study. Study? I'd never been in there...

Hesitating just for a second, I opened the door to her study. In blue: enormous towers of books. There weren't even any shelves, just books piled from the floor to the ceiling in uneven, perilous stacks. And in their midst, a body, lying prone on the ground.

"Help..."

I dropped to the ground and picked up Nagato. "Are you okay? Say something!" She opened her mouth, but no sound came out at the moment. She looked exhausted, as she'd been after fighting Asakura. A library copy of Nieztsche's  _Genealogy of Morals_  lay on the ground next to her.

Finally, weakly, as if trying to climb out of a well, Nagato whispered, "I didn't plan for this."

No, please don't worry about that. I'm not really concerned about that right now. Apologies and debriefing can be saved for another time. But the more pertinent questions that I'd have wanted to ask, were Nagato in a state of complete consciousness, seemed inappropriate at the moment. "How do you feel?" I asked.

"Dizzy..." she mumbled. I felt horribly like I was being drawn into the well with her. That weak voice summoned up memories of being sick with the flu and lying in bed, knowing nothing but pain and only dimly aware of the world around me. But no, this was good. I wasn't alone here, whereever this was. Once Nagato was feeling better, we could get things back to normal.

I got the distinct impression that it was going to be difficult to contact anyone else during this emergency. At long last, then, it was time for the hapless protagonist to shine. I scooped Nagato off the ground and carried her in my arms into the living room, lying her down on the rug. She seemed only vaguely aware what was going on. Entering the tatami room, I raided the closet for a pillow and blankets.

In the midst of collecting those things, that distant voice reached my ears again: "Kyon."

For a second, I absurdly wondered who the voice could be. When I shook off this disconnect, I realized that I had never heard Nagato call me that before. You'd think she, of all people, would use my real name...

Pushing open the door with my foot, I looked over to see Nagato staring up at me from the floor, still looking more than a little dazed.

"Kyon," she said. "Where are we?"

4.

I was a little shaken, but put on a winning smile as I dropped the blankets at her feet. "I'm pretty sure this is your penthouse."

"No, it's not."

 _Okay... she senses something I don't. I can deal with this._ "Nagato, you're still tired," I replied, trying to push a pillow under her head. "You need to get your bearings before we can figure out where we are."

She shook her head. "Kyon, this isn't my apartment."

 _Okay._

"This shouldn't be happening."

 _Yes. Thanks. I already knew that._

"We shouldn't be here."

 _Stop it._

"This is wrong."

"STOP!" I burst out.

Nagato looked at me, panicked.  _What?_ I thought. _Why am I supposed to be making things better all of a sudden? Who the hell am I?_

"Look, I'm... I'm totally clueless, okay? I know something went wrong, but we're going to have to work together to get back to reality. Take this one step at a time or both of us will freak out."

"This isn't my..." Nagato looked utterly, utterly lost.

Now what?

I decided to give her a little quiz. "Let's start from the basics. Obviously, you know who I am. Do you know who you are?"

"Nagato Yuki. Human...oid interface."

"What's the date?" She rattled it off correctly.

"Do you remember what happened?"

She shook her head urgently. "I don't want to talk about it. I feel very unstable."

"Where do you think we are?"

Nope.

"Why isn't this your apartment?"

Nope.

I was going to have to find a more agreeable line of questioning. I never claimed to be a psychologist, but when people trap themselves in a circle of thoughts like this, my first instinct is to break them out.

I looked around for a suitable distraction. This room was empty. Obviously, I wouldn't be able to make tea for her. Thinking of the chaotic pile of books in the study, I tucked the blanket over Nagato, stood up, and headed over there. When I opened the door, though, something had changed in the room.

 _Something had changed._ Not an observation, but a sense. A chill ran down my spine.

I looked around the study, but I had only casually glanced at it before, and there was no way to tell what was different. Nagato was right—there was something  _wrong_ with this entire situation. Were things changing behind my back in every room? What did she mean by this not being her apartment? I don't want to deal with this...

I grabbed a book off the floor and ran back to her side, as if I was afraid she was going to disappear on me. What exactly had I just seen? Was that entire event just my imagination? The unnatural blue of the room seemed a little more alien, and I felt my heart racing a little. Calm down.

I looked at Nagato, reassured to just to see that she was still there. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. Hey, were you reading this?" I asked in the cheeriest tone I could manage, holding up the  _Genealogy of Morals_.

She managed the smallest of smiles. The long-awaited benefits of her personality subroutine, at work again. "A little light reading," she said.

"Has your study always been a mess of books?"

"No, I usually just read at the library. I like to keep my apartment clean."

Huh?

"Only recently," she added, as if she had just remembered. "I started to do a more serious study about Haruhi's value system. I was already familiar with Western and Japanese sociology, of course, but they don't really seem to address the more difficult question of how human beings relate themselves to the universe. So, I took a few philosophy books home in order to compare them."

"Only a few?"

"Most of them weren't worth my time, to be honest... existentialists don't have half the creativity of science fiction writers. I wanted people who were able to examine the sum of historical data and draw creative conclusions based on it. Given your population of seven billion, that's a surprisingly short list of authors."

"No, I mean, it must have been more than a few... I saw stacks of books in there."

"Hmm? I... you're right..." Now she looked confused again. Had I prodded too much? "Anyway, I concluded that human beings actually suffer from a dangerous lack of perspective, so if I were to integrate emotion into my capacities, I'd have to wall off any perception of the Data Integration Thought Entity as a safeguard. But..."

But?

"But I didn't realize I'd still have my own memories..." Suddenly Nagato seized up, as in pain. "Ahh!" She sat up and grabbed my arm. "Kyon! Make it stop!" I stared helplessly at the tears in her eyes.

And I knew who I was looking at. Nagato had given herself the gentle personality of her alter ego, while maintaining her own knowledge and worldview, perfectly according to plan. And it didn't work. Not only did it not work, but no ordinary human, no matter how strong, could understand the supergalactic universe that the living humanoid interface Nagato was constantly aware of.

And what if they were unable to avoid that awareness?

I suddenly had an unpleasant intuition of where I was.

5.

What exactly is a personality, anyway? Is it the mere presence of emotion, the human response to a rush of chemicals to the brain indicating happiness or pain? Isn't there a personal history involved? So, babies don't have personality. Or do they?

These idle thoughts ran through my head as I did my best to comfort Nagato, who seemed to be in a mismatched, liminal state between alien and human.

For some time both of us were silent. She was calming down just looking at me, which made me feel oddly useful. "You doing okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just... give me something else to think about."

"Why do you need a personality to talk normally?"

"Huh?"

"You read so much, you must know how real people speak Japanese."

"Ah." She thought a bit. "Normally, I try to be perfectly unambiguous and accurate when I talk. Language is an irritating thing, it's so easy to say something you didn't mean. Seems like it's a lot easier for me now, though."

"You sound like a completely different person," I remarked, then wished that I hadn't.

"But this is interesting. I have a favor to ask..."

"Shoot."

"Could you get me a copy of Wittgenstein from my study? It would be on top of one of the stacks."

"Sure," I said unthinkingly. As I stood up, I remembered the eerieness of that room. But this was no time to abandon my courage. I once again walked through the darkness and opened that door.

The study was empty, not only of books, but of chairs, furniture, anything. It was a blank canvas of room, lit in eerie blue. I could have heard a pin drop in its silence.

Once again, I was rushing back to Nagato's side, just to confirm that she existed.

"Couldn't find it?" she asked me.

"Nagato, the room's  _gone_!"

"That's...  _what?_ " Nagato stood up one foot at a time, swaying a little in dizziness. I directed her through the hallway to the open door. But the inside had changed again.

At the far end of the room there was no longer a blank wall but a void. Sticks of wood and chunks of plaster hung off the edge into pure darkness. Now, as if someone was stomping on it, more and more little pieces broke off. The room was starting to dissolve.

"Aahhhh!" One of us said that—I couldn't vouch for who. Nagato slammed the door shut and pressed her back against it, as if to keep the darkness out.

"We're running out of time," I said. "Don't you have any of your regular abilities?"

"I really don't... I'm..." Nagato trailed off. "Kyon, where are we? Is this closed space?"

It was the same question I'd heard before, but now it bothered me for a different reason. "Shouldn't you know?"

"Huh?"

"Isn't it obvious? This space is your creation. It's falling apart because you are." I blurted out my suspicions incautiously, although given, the most recent events had all but confirmed my theory.

"But... is this real? Is it some kind of dream?"

"I don't know! You should be the one in charge."

"But I'm not... although, I guess I could have created something like this."

I had wanted the other world's Nagato, the one with the hesitant but kind personality. I think there are plenty of guys who would agree with me on that. But that was selfish. I should never have asked for it. I  _needed_ the fully functioning Nagato—the world needed it.

My only comfort was that perhaps Nagato herself was thinking the same thing.

From behind the door, I heard the creaking of metal wrenching apart, and the crunching of wooden floorboards being split in two. These utterly unnecessary sound effects served to do nothing but nurture a quiet terror in both of us.

"We don't have much time," I said. "You need to get your thoughts together..."

"I can't!" she cried.

And the door caved in.

6.

"Gyaahhh!" We scrambled into the living room, boards falling into darkness behind us.

For the moment, this room appeared stable, but obviously it wouldn't be for long. If this was a real Armageddon, there was no chance for us but to reverse it as soon as possible. She'd have to rebuild her apartment, her complex, the universe.

Was that even possible for this Nagato? Now, with a gasp, she sank to the ground again. I caught her before she hit the floor.

"Nagato! Focus!"

"No use... language can't describe this..."

"What?"

"The Data Integration... human minds aren't meant to perceive this sort of thing."

"You have a human mind, don't you?"

She shook her head. "An organic brain is very complex. It can be made to do unnatural things. I was built with the sensory capacities necessary for my mission, which is incompatible with emotional functioning. To be human I have to interpret the world in a human way. For me to exercise my abilities I must be able to interpret the material network of data structures... I've pushed myself too far to the former side."

"You must at least remember the stuff you did in the past. I've seen you do ridiculous things."

Now she started to cringe again, looking at me for sympathy. "God... Kyon... I wish you could see what I was seeing right now."

Then something unexpected happened. By the unfortunate illogic of this universe, her wish took effect. A memory from her brain flew into my head. It was only for a split second, but it was bad enough.

 _[Otaku only. To skip to the action, scroll to the next italic line]_

During this instant, I did not have time to have an emotional reaction. This was fortunate, and perhaps part of Nagato's wish. If I had been tapped into the Data Integration Thought Entity for enough time to understand what I was seeing as a human being, I might not have retained my sanity. As it was, only my facilities of higher intelligence were temporarily put into overdrive by an insane burst of information, in extremely well-structured form, that I understood instantly but could not easily explain to anyone else.

As Nagato had correctly said, what I perceived cannot be described with language. But as a very concerned observer I'll do my best to explain. I cannot actually say that I "saw" anything, any more than a computer "sees" the Internet. Yes, that's perhaps the best metaphor, although it's still woefully inaccurate. An Internet connection is a one-dimensional series of pulses, albeit very rapid pulses, which connect a computer to other individual computers it has received assistance to find. What comes through that connection is raw information. The computer has the ability to unwrap this information, although it obviously doesn't grasp its philosophical meaning or whatever. Maybe it's a political manifesto, maybe it's someone's idle musing: the computer does not care. Its job is to figure out how to transform that information into something meaningful to humans, something like what I am doing now, and what I suppose Nagato must do constantly. (She's not a computer, but as a humanoid interface she's equipped for this task. Me, not so much.)

An Internet link has one dimension. Vision gives us two different two-dimensional pictures, parsed into three dimensions by our brains. Sound might be said to be three-dimensional. The Integration Data Thought Entity is a four-dimensional structure, insofar as it encompasses both space and time.

And what exactly is a "thought entity"? Humans tend to think of information as something that in the end relates back to ourselves. So, if we consider thoughts to have an independent existence, which some philosophers have, we think of them as political ideas or useful inventions in the making, floating around out there in the ether, waiting for some human to pick them up. I am sorry to report that this is almost entirely untrue. The most important thing is that human beings have no relevance to actual information. In fact, because all language relates the world to us, a thought body cannot be purely described with language, although mathematics comes close.

I perceived a memory. It was of the first dialogue I had with Nagato in her apartment some months ago, when she explained the meaning of her existence to me. I suppose the memory was taking place from Nagato's perspective, although for reasons I can't explain this was not precisely relevant information, the most important fact being that an enormous surge of information was gathered around her, which was encompassing me somewhat. The details of the conversation, the room it was being held in, and so forth were all contained in that local cluster. A few of these details were making it all the way to me, but it was easy to tell that the pound of hamburger that I call my brain was not well informed of its own participation in the thought entity, so my presence in the network was suitably minor and disorganized, a trash heap of stray information.

Things that were more distant in space and time were somewhat cloudier. For example, I could not tell you where Asakura was at that instant, although there was doubtless a surge of information around that humanoid interface, too. But to confirm her position in spacetime I would have had to call the information about her to me, by making small physical or even mental movements (like that butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil) which would manipulate local interrelations to make that request. Something Nagato does all the time.

This central perception was only the local part of a network that announced its size and age in clearly stated numbers that are nonetheless difficult to convey. I can say things like billions and trillions, but can you actually imagine what a trillion kilometers looks like, right now? There are a hundred trillion cells in your body. None of those cells, not even brain cells, could comprehend how to count to a hundred trillion, but surely you exist anyway. Similarly, in the Data Integration Thought Entity there are at least a hundred septillion vigintillion interrelations in spacetime. In this momentary four-dimensional perception, I had a glimpse of what a hundred septillion vigintillion looks like. I did not have enough time when this memory was being broadcast to me to actually parse this and understand my own position in the universe. Nonetheless, when I was rocketed back to reality one quarter of a second later I was slammed with nausea and vertigo.

As I said, all of these words are sort of a metaphor. I'm almost certain that if you were at all able to take in what I was talking about here, you used some sort of visualization, even though I explicitly said that I didn't see anything. I could make myself more accurate by going into further detail, but I have to move on to the conclusions I was able to draw from this. The first was one you can make, too: witnessing the amount of explanation it took me to give you a mere taste of that memory, you can see that being constantly in contact with that amount of information could easily make you sound like a robot.

Secondly, based on the understanding I gained from that memory, I realized how childish humans must seem in the eyes of the Data Integration Thought Entity. Most of our thoughts are narcissistic data about ourselves and each other with hardly any "true" (scientific?) informational merit. The few meaningful scientific facts we have gathered usually sit around in disarray, like bricks scattered in a field. Occasionally, two of them are stacked together (then someone gets to publish a scientific paper), but they are never used to build a house, let alone a skyscraper or whatever I should call a thought entity. We have no understanding of how thoughts relate to each other in material space. Even after seeing it in action, I could not tell you how it is done now; if I could, then I'd have amazing superpowers.

Finally, I realized why there was no solution to the problem at hand. Nagato literally  _couldn't_  "get her thoughts together." By enabling that personality subroutine, she had become a mundane like me, a failure of a mental carpenter who couldn't stack two bricks together. She no longer saw the patterns of information that ruled the space we were both standing in. And the memory of her past experience—the knowledge of her infinitesimal place in the Universe, and the memory of being aware of  _everything_  light years and eons away—was incompatible with the access to emotion she had desired. That was what triggered this, whatever we might want to call it.

 _[Now back to our show.]_

While these thoughts flooded my head and I attempted to stave off my own dizziness, Nagato looked at me in confusion. Did she realize what she had just done?

"Your wish came true," I gasped.

"You mean—"

"No time," I said, observing. From all sides, walls and windows were falling backwards, and the whole room seemed to be gently tilting, tipping us into nothingness.

"Then this is the end?"

"I wish I could tell you."

"I barely even got to talk with you..." Nagato seemed desolate. "Kyon... there's so much I wanted to tell you."

The television tumbled off the edge of the apartment, which had now condensed to a miserly six tatami mats.

She continued. "Things irrelevant to my mission, that I wasn't supposed to be concerned with." She looked up at me. "I'm not permitted to be distracted. But I knew that if I was an ordinary girl, I'd be treating my friends much differently. There would be things I'd want to say and do. And at some point, I decided I needed to give it a shot, to see if I could be... can you forgive me?"

"For what?" The kotatsu was teetering dangerously.

"For breaking the rules. For disrupting my own programming, to convey this to you..."

"Yuki."

Color rushed into her pale face.

"You don't need to ask. I understand."

I took her hand, and the floor fell away.

There was a brief silence. There was a total darkness. There was a timeless moment of suspended animation. There was a long and dreamless sleep.

I swear I never let go of that hand.

7.

And I was awake, helplessly awake. I wanted so badly to go back to sleep.

But the lights were on. Colors other than blue had returned to my vision. I was back in Nagato's apartment, and the floor was gleaming with polish. I stared into her face. Wait, what?

I was on all fours, on top of Nagato. "The subroutine self-terminated," she stated, completely expressionless.

Where the hell was I? I looked around in confusion. There was the TV, windows, urban skyline. Everything was back to normal. As a matter of fact, it was as if nothing had happened.

Nagato aimed to stand up, and realizing I was still on top of her, I got up and brushed myself off. I felt as if my own grip on my sanity was still under threat. Where was I? What had she just said?

Self...terminated?

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"An extreme level of emotion was reached almost immediately, triggering an emergency scenario which continued the subroutine in a simulation. When the scenario ended in failure, the subroutine self-terminated, and erased itself."

Oh. Nothing  _had_ happened. I was back on Planet Earth. But that meant...

"Nagato?"

"Yes?"

"That was no ordinary scenario. You drew me in somehow. I experienced the whole thing."

Nagato was silent.

"I did not intend for that to happen to you," she said, finally.

What was I supposed to say in response to that? She must be feeling incredible guilt. I shouldn't have told her in the first place.

"Involving you in this incident was an inexcusable mistake. I have put you at risk twice now. I will modify my future behavior accordingly."

That's not the conclusion I wanted to hear at all. Is this Nagato completely disconnected from the message her other self tried to give me? Does she even realize what happened there?

"Do you remember what happened?" I ask.

"The experiment has already failed. The memory is available to be consulted if necessary, but it is likely irrelevant."

"Do it." I put my hands on her shoulders. "I'm asking you, as a favor. You need to know this."

Without meeting my eye, she looked lost in thought for a moment.

Then: "Oh."

"That's how it went."

"I see."

She moved my hands away and sat down at the kotatsu, directing me to do the same.

"Drink."

Nagato pushed a cup of tea at me. It was piping hot.

Apparently, the scenario had executed at the speed of Nagato's own thoughts, which is to say, it ended as soon as it began. I had arrived in her room just ten minutes ago, or so I was told. The teapot had no time to cool.

I drank my tea and another cup was thrust at me. It was good to be back.

"You know, it's true, what you said," I remarked.

"..."

"There's no way you can do what you do while dealing with human emotions. Your level of perception would drive a regular human insane."

"I said that?"

"No, but I... figured it out."

"..."

"That's the conclusion you've reached, right?"

Nagato put down her tea. "How did you figure it out?"

"Well, you know, a lot of stuff happened in the simulation. I guess I just picked up on where we were and what you were thinking."

"I can't attribute such a thing to mere intuition. You have reached the conclusion of the simulation designer, not of the personality subroutine that was running within it." A pause... "What did you mean when you said that my wish had come true?"

"I had a glimpse of one of your memories. It was kind of a revelation."

"You experienced one of my memories?"

"Yeah..."

"And, you weren't driven insane."

"Well. I didn't really have time to react."

"That doesn't explain... you must have had some kind of ability to control what you experienced."

"But I wasn't able to control anything. The scenario fell apart."

"You figured out what was happening before me."

I guess so.

"Perhaps you had no conscious data manipulation abilities. But as you may now understand, your mind is linked in to the same data network that controls me."

Sounds kind of cool when you put it that way.

"This evening, I cut myself off from the Data Integration Thought Entity, but your independent source of thought and action altered my understanding. And your demand for me to consult the memory of this event proved fruitful."

Oh...

"I believe that your actions prevented a complete mental breakdown."

Well...

"Thank you."

Nagato went to the kitchen, ostensibly to clean the kettle and cups. This was as close to poignancy as she usually came. I now understood how busy her life was, and how little tolerance there was for deviation. Perhaps that should have been a conclusion for me. But yet... I was unsatisfied. I was brought here tonight for a reason. It wasn't to get a science lesson or take a trip. That experience took me to hell and back. I wasn't going to forget about it without least finishing the conversation she had tried so hard to start. So as she reentered the room, I turned around and put my hand down on the carpet.

"Nagato. About those last things you said, during the scenario."

"..."

"Maybe this was a failure, but the pressure you feel is real. Like it or not, you are a fully functioning high school student."

"Is that so."

"Your worldview may be different, but you're still living a human life. So the same advice goes for you as any student. You only get one high school life. Make the most of it."

"..."

"You don't have to abandon your mission. You have more than enough ability to correct any slips you might make."

"..."

"Am I driving you nuts just by saying this?"

"..."

"It's okay to question yourself."

"Yes," said Nagato abruptly. "I know. I have acquired a new definition of mental stability."

I broke unwittingly into a wide grin. Suddenly, I was completely satisfied.

 _Fin_

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Epilogue

"I'm probably overstaying my welcome at this point."

"Not really."

"Well. Uh. Anyway, I should probably get going. You'll be back in the clubroom tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. I won't cause you trouble in the future."

"It's okay, just..." What exactly was I supposed to say? I'll help you through hard times, but try not to destroy the universe again...

As I walked down the hall, a door caught my eye. "Nagato?"

"Yes?"

"Can I look inside your study?"

"No."

"...Okay." Classified information, huh? I slipped on my shoes. "See you tomorrow."

I glanced up at her apartment as I walked outside. The lights were still on. Doubtless Nagato was hard at work on something I could never hope to understand. But maybe she knew herself better now.

An interesting question. Isn't it really impossible to know yourself? Humanoid interfaces aren't the only ones with that problem. You're always the reacting protagonist. It's only in other people's lives that you're a familiar character, a beloved personality.

Well, at least, if Nagato ever wanted to learn what I knew about her, now she understood how to ask.


End file.
